


Let's get out of this town

by myrish_lace



Series: Neighbors [3]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beaches, Camping, Canoe races, Childhood Friends, Competition, F/M, Fourth of July, Friends to Lovers, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related, Jon and Sansa will share a tent, Jon is along for the ride, Jonsa Summer Challenge, Neighbors, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Road Trips, S'mores, Sansa and Margaery and Jeyne are camping buddies, Vacation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-11-30 15:06:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11466114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrish_lace/pseuds/myrish_lace
Summary: Jon and Sansa are neighbors in the same apartment building who’ve grown closer over the past several months, and they’re in a relationship now. Jon’s a veteran with PTSD, so Sansa’s found a park they can go to over the July 4th weekend that doesn’t allow fireworks. Sansa’s friends Margaery and Jeyne are along for the camping trip. and Jon thinks Margaery’s up to something. She is, but Jon's wrong about her motivations.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for sticking with me! :) This will be a more light-hearted installment in the series describing Jon and Sansa's first camping trip together, and it's going to have a few chapters, so stay tuned! :)

Sansa squeezed Jon’s hand before they got in the car.

"I’m really happy we’re going, Jon. We can always leave, if–“

 _If the fireworks are too much_.

“I know, sweet girl.” In truth, Jon felt better about this holiday than he had in a long time. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone anywhere for July 4th.

Anywhere apart from…best not to think about the ghosts in his apartment.

Sansa clucked her tongue. “Do we have everything? I hope we have everything. I know we checked twice, but–“

Jon put his hand on her waist. “We do. I’d bet money on it. A girl who used to organize a five-kid camping trip and a guy who knows how to pack on short notice for long trips? I think we’re okay.”

“But what if we–“

Jon kissed her nose. He could see the blue string of her bikini tied around her neck. She was wearing a short yellow sundress, and he felt completely outclassed. Talk about not boxing your weight.

“Well, we know we have the tent, because it’s strapped to the top of the car.”

They’d brought Sansa’s four-person tent for the two of them. The only tent Jon had slept one and a half people, and that would be assuming  _way_  too much on this trip.  

“I know you have your wallet because I’ve seen you take it out of your purse four times, and I know mine’s in my back pocket. We’ve got the car keys, because the door’s unlocked.”

Sansa was smiling at him now. “And anything else we forgot, we can pick up on the way. Okay, but don’t blame me if we’re stuck without a lantern at night.”

“It’s on the left side of the trunk behind the cooler,” Jon said automatically.

Sansa laughed. “Fine, let’s go. I’m hoping we can get there before Margaery and Jeyne. There may still be a few good spots left, and I want us to get one of them.”

They’d made these arrangements last minute. Oberyn, Margaery’s boyfriend, couldn’t make it. Jeyne had stepped in. Jeyne had gone camping with the Stark family since she was ten years old. Margaery had been on more than a few Stark camping trips too, back when she was dating Sansa’s older brother, Robb. 

Jon was learning there was a history of competition between the three friends when they camped.

And it started early, based on the gleam in Sansa’s eye.

“Get ready Jon.  A minimum of pit stops, five miles above the speed limit–“

“Five?” Jon widened his eyes in exaggerated shock.

Sansa considered. “Ten then. Ten should be fine, we still shouldn’t get pulled over–“

Jon couldn’t help himself, he kissed her, being careful not to take it too far. Jon had noticed, maybe even before Sansa did, that Sansa tensed up when he did more than kiss her. He’d slid his hands under her shirt, once, and she’d trembled, even though she'd told him it was okay. She'd looked relieved and disappointed when he'd said they could wait. There seemed to be a point past which she didn’t want to go, when it came to being physically close. 

This morning, Sansa sighed into his mouth before pulling back. “What was that for?” Her eyes were a little glazed.

“How competitive you are. I love it.”

“Really? Most guys can’t stand it.”

Jon shrugged. “Most guys are idiots.”

“You’re not wrong. Let’s go. Traffic to beat.”

Plus Margaery and Jeyne, Jon thought.

***

They did, in fact, get there first, but just barely. Margaery flagged them down in the parking lot as they were walking to the campground.

“Doesn’t count Marg, we still beat you,” Sansa called out over her shoulder.

Margaery and Jeyne caught up with them on the sandy path approaching the woods. Margaery put her hand on Jon’s arm.

“Jon, it’s lovely to see you again.”

“Um, yeah. You too.” Jon took Sansa’s hand.

Jon had met Sansa's two friends a few times since he came back from vacation. Margaery hosted game nights at her house. That was the very first look Jon had gotten at Sansa’s competitive streak.

Jon tended to give Margaery a wide berth. She was beautiful, but he noted that down the same way he kept track of what color the sky was. Not that relevant. She also seemed a bit – predatory, to Jon. He was used to being hit on, but his “stoic and sullen exterior” as Sam put it, usually got rid of most girls in five minutes.

Margaery got too close for his comfort. And he couldn’t just ignore her, because she was Sansa’s best friend.

This whole social life thing was more complicated that he’d expected.

Jon got along with Jeyne better. She was quiet, but smart. Very smart. She and Sansa went neck and neck at Trivial Pursuit two weeks ago.

Sansa won, of course.

Jeyne adjusted her straw hat against the sun. “Our best bet’s probably the back of the park.”

Margaery hooked her arm into Jeyne’s.  “Lead the way, my dear.”

***

In the end there were only two campsites left, and they weren’t close together. Margaery and Jeyne would be almost ten lots over. Sansa called the site with the biggest fire pit, on account of winning the first race. They split up, and agreed to meet at the beach in half an hour.

Jon got to work. By the time Sansa had unloaded half the trunk, he had the tent set up. Didn’t seem like they’d need much mosquito netting – he’d only seen a few bugs buzzing around the trees.

He unrolled the sleeping bags and placed them carefully apart inside.

Plenty of distance between them. No implication there. Which was how he wanted it. They’d been together for two months, but Jon was willing to wait two years, if that’s what it took to make Sansa comfortable.

Hell, he’d sleep outside if it made her feel better.

Sansa came over and walked around the tent. “Wow. Can I keep you?”

Jon was perplexed. “Um, yes?”

Sansa shrugged. “Just used to doing most of this myself. The set-up part.”

“Don’t you have an older brother?”

“Yep, an older brother who used every summer as an excuse to flex for the girls nearby. At least after he turned fourteen.”

“Making camp and breaking it – one of the few benefits I offer.”

Sansa kissed him on the cheek. “More than a few, Jon. I packed up the coolers. Let’s go meet Marg and Jeyne?”

Part of Jon wanted to stay at this campsite with Sansa, just the two of them. But that wasn’t why they’d come, and it wasn’t what Sansa was hoping for. So he grabbed a cooler and they made their way down to the beachfront.

The beach was flanked by two stone bluffs, set like large stepping stones all the way down to the dark blue water of the lake. There were pine trees that transitioned to oaks and beeches closer to the water’s edge.

A canoe rental shop bedecked with fake Hawaiian grass stood off to the right, and a pier jutted out behind it. An official looking green sign from the park service made it clear there was No Diving and No Fishing without a Permit.

 _No worries there_ , Jon thought, remembering how Sansa had cried when she’d talked to Rickon over the phone about Finding Nemo.

There were striped blankets up and down the sand, but Margaery spied a good spot off to the left.  Floating pool chairs dotted the lake, and some kids were playing volleyball with a net a few feet out into the water.

After a few quick minutes setting up their blankets, they took a poll and figured out canoeing was the first thing they wanted to try.

“I’ll go get the boats,” Jon said.

Sansa tugged off her sundress, leaving her wearing only her navy blue bikini with white polka dots.

Margaery whistled. “Damn, Sansa, you look good enough to eat. With that red hair, you’re like your own Fourth of July party cake.”

Sansa merely shrugged, and rummaged in her bag for the sunblock. She started pouring it on. Jon had laughed when Sansa had told him before they left that she went through a bottle a day. She’d told him it was the only way to keep skin as pale as hers from burning.

She really did have beautiful alabaster skin, and her bikini didn’t leave much of it to the imagination. Jon was having a difficult time not staring at her.

“Aren’t you going to help her, Jon?” Margaery practically purred. Sansa was applying the cream to her neck now.

Sansa went still.  _Fear_. Jon hung back and stayed where he was.

Sansa cleared her throat. “Jeyne, can you help me?”

Jeyne was by Sansa’s side in a flash. She pulled her brown hair back in a ponytail and got to work on Sansa’s back.

“Right then.” Jon started heading down the beach.

“Hurry back, handsome prince,” Margaery hollered after him. “Three lovely ladies, all alone on the beach, without their bodyguard, who knows what we’ll get up to!” Jon saw Sansa beckon Margaery over, but the sounds of kids calling back and forth drowned out what she said.

Margaery was getting on his nerves. She seemed ready to talk about sex at every opportunity. Or at least insinuate it.

The guy at the boat shop didn’t help either. He shifted his considerable bulk to get the forms and squinted at Jon from under his ball cap.

“Just remember, two hours maximum, or I gotta fine you.”

Jon nodded.

“Hey, you with them? The three babes?”

Jon didn’t look up as he wrote.

“C’mon man, how’d you pull it off? You got one tent for all four of you?”

“I’m with her,” Jon said shortly, and shoved the clipboard back into the guy’s beefy hand. He hadn’t said Sansa’s name, hadn’t even glanced back, but the guy seemed to get the drift.

“Okay, okay, buddy, easy, one-woman man, got it, what are you gonna do, shoot me?” He ambled off to the back of the store to get the paddles and Jon thought he heard him murmur “Christ, looks like he’s gonna shoot me, anyway,” as he stacked them in his arms.

Jon waved the three of them down and soon he and Sansa were in one canoe and Margaery and Jeyne were in another.

“Race you!” Margaery shouted, as Jeyne climbed in. 

“Sansa do you–“ Jon looked  back, and saw the fire in her eyes. It momentarily overwhelmed his dizziness at the sight of her in her bikini.

Momentarily.

“She is  _not_  winning Jon. No way. I don’t care that she and Jeyne did crew in college. Let me steer. I’m the canoe racing champion of Starved Rock, Illinois. If I can beat Robb and his buddies we can beat these two.”

“Yes ma’am,” Jon said, and he was pretty sure he was grinning as widely as she was.

They made it about halfway up the lake in the canoes and back, with Sansa and Jon in the lead the whole way. Jon heard taunts from Sansa and Margaery that would have made his army friends blush.

While Sansa was still crowing, both boats hit a submerged log. There had been no hint of it before – Sansa and Jeyne were each pros at navigating around the buoys in the lake that signaled “rocks ahead.”

All four of them went over. It took a good half-hour to right the boats, track down the paddles (thankfully they’d lodged on the bank of the lake) and get everyone back in.

Jon was surprised to hear Sansa shriek as she slipped on the wet bottom of the boat and almost went over again. He caught her, holding her steady. He was very, very aware of just how much bare skin he was touching.

“All right?” There it was again, the tension in her body. He couldn’t let go, like he usually did, because he wasn’t sure if she had her footing back yet.

“I am now.” She smiled. Her red hair was dark and plastered to her skin. She leaned in to kiss him.

“Oh for god’s sake, can we go back now? There’s a whole tent for you two to make out in, you know.” Margaery and Jeyne were back in their boat. Margaery’s arms were crossed and she did not look pleased to be drenched.

Jeyne smirked, showing a little tooth for the first time that day. “Just because you couldn’t convince Oberyn to come doesn’t mean those two can’t have a little fun, Marg.”

Margaery let out something suspiciously close to a  _hmmph_  before picking up her paddle again.

By the time all four of them paddled back, the sun was pretty low in the sky. They’d been out in the boats longer than their allotted time, but Margaery told them to leave that to her.

Which still meant Sansa, Jeyne and Jon had to haul the canoes ashore. The metal was hot enough to burn his hand. He got ready to wince and bear it.

“Here.” Sansa threw him and Jeyne a towel. “Use these.”

“You are such a mama bear,” Jeyne said with affection.

They heaved and finally both boats were safely on the beach.

Jeyne brushed her hair out of her eyes and found Margaery.”Yep, I think we’re going to be fine, folks.”

Margaery was leaning over the counter of the hut. She had plenty of cleavage in her green bikini, and the guy was getting an eyeful. By the way his mouth was hanging open, Jon suspected Jeyne was right. The guy would probably hand over the keys to the store if Margaery asked.

“All set!” Margaery chirped on her way back. “I’m starving, let’s go eat.”  

They made their way back to their blankets and dried off. Jeyne brushed sand off the cooler and set out sandwiches.  She took drink orders and tossed Margaery and Sansa a beer. Jon took a water bottle and so did Jeyne.

Sansa spread out her beach towel after they were done eating. “I don’t know about the rest of you but I’m going lie here like a lump and soak up the sun.”

Margaery wiped her hands on a napkin. “C’mon, Sansa, one game first. Cards?”

“No,” Sansa said quickly, and Jon hid his smile. Sansa wasn't the best cards player.

He pulled out his own towel and lay down next to Sansa. She opened one eye to look at him.

“Hey.”

Some of her hair had pulled free from her braid and was hanging in wisps around her face. Jon could tell her freckles were more prominent even after a few hours in the sun. Jon recalled what Margaery had said. Sansa did look delectable, lying on her stomach, with just two strings holding up her bikini top.

He realized it had been a long time since she'd spoken. He blinked, and smiled at her. 

“Hey.”

“I actually am going to sleep, you know.”

“Sounds great to me.” Jon yawned. It did. He was pleasantly tired. His muscles were sore, but in the good way. With the seagulls calling overhead, he could almost pretend he was at the ocean.

Sansa reached for his hand. He took it, and soon he’d dozed off.

When the first fireworks went off, a long ways away, Sansa’s eyes flew open.

Jon had tensed. But he’d known there would be explosions like this, even in a park specifically designed to be as far away from fireworks as possible.

Sansa squeezed his hand.

“I’m fine, Sansa. I’m all right.”

And he was. He’d be jumpy, but he’d dealt with that before. The occasional, distant noise was so much better than being in the middle of a city with pyrotechnics in each backyard.

“Really?”

“Really.” He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, and soon she was asleep again.


	2. Chapter 2

They got hustled off the beach when dusk hit, and strolled back to Jon and Sansa’s campsite. 

Jon started to build up the fire in the big pit in the center of the lot. The park was packed, and they were surrounded on all sides by campers and trailers. But this spot had a few pine trees, which helped give it some privacy. The blue-green needles had fallen over many years and made a soft brown carpet on the ground.

Sansa went into the tent to change. She came out with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing shorts and a light blue cover-up.

She looked worried.

Jon started to walk over, when Sansa motioned to Jeyne. Jon gave the two some privacy.

“Hey, short dark and handsome. Some help here?” Margaery had her hands full with tinfoil and corn on the cob.

They grilled up steaks and corn. Just like Jon had, on the deck of the boat when he’d been with Pyp and Grenn and Sam. For Sam’s 25th birthday, he and the other guys had rented a boat and went sailing around the Virgin islands. He’d mailed Sansa a letter at each port. Every time he wrote he’d worked up the courage to be more open about how much he cared about her.

In his last letter he’d come so close to telling her he loved her. But he couldn’t quite do it. She’d still met him at the airport with a hug he’d probably remember for the rest of his life, and they’d started dating right after that.

Jon kissed her cheek, once they’d arranged themselves in a circle around the fire. She still tasted faintly of sunblock, and that made him smile. She pulled back, but her eyes were shining.

“Hey, what was that for?”

“The food.”

Sansa raised an eyebrow at him. Right. She probably needed more detail.

“It’s what we grilled after we all were finally done being seasick. When we were sailing in the Virgin Islands. Reminded me how happy I was that you let me write to you.”

Sansa was the only person we knew who could make eating corn off the cob look delicate. “I kind of felt like I was there with you, when you wrote.”

“That’s what I wanted.” The trip had been wonderful but he’d missed her. A lot. He’d written to tell her about the beautiful sites they were seeing.

“For me to feel like I was there, or for me to be there?”

 _Both_ , Jon thought, but before he could answer, Margaery tapped Sansa on the shoulder.

“We have a problem, dear.”

“What is it, Marg?” Sansa set her plate aside.

Margaery looked guilty. “Well, it was my job to pack the marshmallows, remember? For s’mores? Except I didn’t.”

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Marg…”

“I know, I know. S’mores. We gotta have them.” Margaery looked contrite, for once.

Sansa nodded solemnly, There was some kind of tradition at work here, that these three girls had built up over years of camping trips. Jon gathered that s’mores mattered, a lot.

Margaery glanced at the car. “Jeyne and I’ll go get them.”

Sansa brushed her hands off. “No, stay here with Jon. We might need to go to more than one store. Jeyne and I can make it quick.”

“Okay, Sansa. I’m sorry, I really am. I know how much you like to have everything ready for trips like these.”

Sansa gave Margaery a warm smile. “It’s fine, Margaery. It’s like old times, when Arya would forget something. Sleeping bags or sunblock or–“

“Tent stakes,” Jeyne broke in, and all three girls groaned together. “God, that sucked. It poured rain too.”

Sansa’s mouth was turned up at the corner. “Arya ran around like a little banshee in it, too. Shrieking at the top of her lungs. She was thrilled.”

Sansa dusted off her hands. “Okay Jeyne, surgical strike, ready?”

“Born ready, Sansa.”

“Perfect. You two, stay here, we’ll be back in half an hour.”

“Yes Mom,” Margaery and Jon said together.

After the car pulled away, Jon was left staring into the fire with Margaery on the log next to him. The sun was almost set, and the trees cast long shadows over the campfire.  Night was approaching.

Thirty minutes had never seemed so long.

Margaery added wood to the fire, putting it just where Jon would have.

“So. Jon.”

 _Here we go_. He did have to occasionally do a firmer brush-off, with some of the more insistent girls. He braced himself.

“I need you to explain to me, slowly and clearly, why you are making Sansa unhappy. And it had better be a good explanation.”

Margaery’s voice was sharp, sharp enough to make Jon look over at her.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I didn’t forget the marshmallows. They’re back at our campsite. I wouldn’t do that to Sansa on a trip like this. Nobody fucks with s’mores, so just jot that down.”

Margaery poked at the fire again, “Fortunately, she bought it. Anyway, spill. I want you to explain to me why my best friend keeps asking me whether her boyfriend thinks she’s attractive.”

Jon felt the earth shift underneath him. “I do,” he said. “I do, I think she’s beautiful.”

Margaery looked at him skeptically. “Do you make her feel that way?”

“I’ve told her.“ He had, he’d written it down, he’d whispered it in her ear…

“And you’re doing such a bang-up job that she’s pulling me aside on her vacation to ask if maybe I’m more your type that she is.”

Jon was angry, angry that Margaery was bringing this up. And angry, too, that he’d made Sansa uncertain about how he felt.

“You’re not my type,” Jon said through gritted teeth.

That had probably been too direct.

Margaery smiled. “I know. I told her if you think that poor, besotted boy has eyes for anyone but you, you’re crazy.”

She stared at the flames with her shoulders slumped. “It  _is_  a little blow to my ego.”

Jon tried to dredge up some kind of excuse this time, just out of politeness, but Margaery looked at him and chuckled.

“You are pretty gullible, huh? Don’t bother. Don’t care a bit. What you  _do_  need to do is make her feel wanted.”

Jon said nothing. If Margaery didn’t understand how tense Sansa was when she kissed him, he sure as hell wasn’t going to explain it. He wasn’t sulking. He was just protecting Sansa’s privacy.

Well, maybe a bit of both. He looked away, at the pine tree near the tent.  _At least we’ll have some shade. Hopefully we won’t be too hot in our sleeping bags in the morning_. 

If Sansa even wanted him to join her.  If he hadn’t managed to botch this… 

Jon was so lost in thought that Margaery’s voice startled him.

“She’s asked me if there’s something wrong with her.”

That roused Jon out of his bad humor. “There’s  _nothing_  wrong with her.”

Margaery tilted her head. “Wow, you are kind of like a wolf when you get passionate, she’s right. Lucky her.”

Jon felt like his head was spinning. Wolf? Lucky? What?

“Anyway, all I’m saying is she’s she doesn’t know how you feel. She knows you like her, but she doesn’t know if you want her.”

Margaery flipped her hair away from her face. “Don’t get me wrong. Your letter serenade –  by the way don’t  _ever_  let anyone tell you that you don’t have a flair for the dramatic, because fancy stationary and handwritten letters and seriously? – convinced her you care about her. But it’s been what, two months? And all you’ve done is kiss her. You only ran your hand under her shirt once. She says that was just to steady her. I told her to try sucking on your tongue but–“

“Whoa, Marg, please.” Jon was pretty sure he was beet red. He’d heard plenty of guys brag about girls. But it was always very vague. This was almost a clinical level of detail.

Margaery smirked. “Too much? That’s how we talk. Anyway, you’re holding back.”

Jon felt his anger rise up again. “It’s not your business, Margaery.”

“She  _made_  it mine, when she asked me, and I’ve known her for eight years, not eight months, so forgive me if I’m pretty sure I know better than you do when she’s worried.” Margaery’s green eyes were fierce.

 _Not to be trifled with_ , Jon thought.

He nodded. “All right. Fine. That’s fair.”

Margaery picked up a bottle cap and fiddled with it. “It might not just be you, you know. She’s – well, this is really her story to tell, but she had a boyfriend a few years back who was a rare combination of whiny bitch and vicious asshole. He broke some of her confidence. Part of why I’ve been encouraging her to go after you.”

Jon was stunned. “You have?”

Margaery tossed the cap into the fire. “Encouraged her to see you were courting her like something out of an old-time movie. Look, you two seem good together. Just – remember she might need reassuring.” Margaery turned to him again.

“And if you hurt her, I will make it my mission to destroy you.”

Jon had seen sniper’s eyes, and he knew when a threat was real. There was steel in Margaery’s gaze.

“She’s lucky to have you,”  Jon said cautiously. He cleared his throat. “I’ll tell her, when she comes back, that it’s not you—“

Margaery threw her hands in the air. “Don’t mention me, you adorable idiot! Just focus on her, okay?”

“Okay. I’m…I’m sorry, Marg.”

“That you thought I was a grasping bitch trying to snatch Sansa’s boyfriend away?” Margaery gave him a dazzling smile.

He didn’t see any point in denying it. “Yeah.”

Margaery patted his arm. “Don’t be. Make it up to me by making her happy. Whatever that means to her. Got it? I sacrificed s’mores cred for you, and I hardly know you, so you owe me.”

“Got it.”

Jon heard the car pull up onto the gravel before Margaery did. Thank god. Not that he didn’t have a lot to think about.

Sansa and Jeyne hopped out.

“Hey you two!” Jeyne called. “The store was packed, so we had to drive two towns over–“

“Because s’mores are  _happening_ ,” Sansa finished.

Margaery smiled. “Hit me with ‘em Jeyne.” Jeyne lobbed the bag to Margaery, who caught it easily.

“It’s chocolate time.” All three girls got the same dreamy expression on their face. Jon wondered if they knew how similar they looked.

Margaery nudged him. “Stop smirking Snow. Just because you don’t understand the orgasmic power of chocolate-“

That was more than enough of  _that_. “Anyway I’m going to go – check the tent stakes.” he muttered.

Margeary took Jeyne’s hand. “I’ve got some really good Oberyn gossip for you doll. Let’s head back to our place.”

Jeyne pouted. “No campfire stories?”

“Maybe tomorrow. It’s really juicy, I promise.” Margaery gave Jon a pointed look over her shoulder as Margaery and Jeyne strolled away to their campground. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted a slightly shorter version of this on tumblr for Jonsa Week, so if you follow me there you may have already seen most of this. I'm myrish-lace-love on tumblr if you want to say hi! :)

Jon saw Sansa shiver as they laid out the chocolate, graham crackers and marshmallows. It was a hot summer night, but as soon as the haze burned off, the air cooled down rapidly. There was a wind through the forest that went right through Jon’s t-shirt and shorts.  

“You look cold."

Sansa shrugged. "A little.”

Jon reached for her. "Hey. Come here." She seemed to relax almost immediately when Jon pulled her into his embrace. He led her over to the fire and she sat with him. His back was a little chilly, but he didn’t mind. Not at all, given how content Sansa looked in his arms.

“This is nice,” Sansa said sleepily. Jon helped her find a good toasting stick and they each speared a marshmallow.

She adjusted her stick by the fire. “Arya and Bran loved s’mores when we camped.”

“Just Arya and Bran?” Jon had meant to tease her, but Sansa sounded thoughtful when she spoke next.

“Pretty much. Rickon was too young to get close to the fire. Robb was too cool for s’mores.” Sansa yawned. “Besides, like I said, if it didn’t impress the girls at the next campground, Robb didn’t waste his time on it. He’d haul the coolers around and that’s about all.”

Jon tried to picture it. He’d lived in a household of only two. His parents had died in a car crash when he was young. An aunt who was dutiful, but did not love him, raised him. There hadn’t been any camping trips.

Knowing a little more about how big the Stark family was, Jon could conjure up an image of a swarm of small children shouting and laughing.

“Was it like having half of a soccer team?”

Sansa giggled. “Kind of. It was a lot of work.” She twisted her marshmallow stick. “I guess I was a little bit of a second mom.”

Jon could see that easily. He had the freezer full of turkey bean soup to prove it.

Sansa pulled her cover-up around her knees. “Don’t get me wrong, I loved it. But it was nonstop. Arya would thwack Bran with the biggest stick she could find. Rickon kept trying to get into the snacks – he was like a raccoon, I swear, the way he could get at the popsicles. Anyway, you haven’t lived until you’re your hands purple for three days straight from cleaning up sticky faces.” She sounded happy, but tired just thinking about it.

Jon wondered if maybe in her own way, Sansa hadn’t always gotten to be a kid.

Sansa’s marshmallow was starting to droop. “Bran used to like to toast his marshmallows evenly, all the way around, until they were golden brown. He was so careful. Sometimes we had to pull him back from the fire, he’d get so zoned in on it. He had wisps of smoke coming off of the soles of his shoes once.”

“How about Arya?”

Sansa snorted. “Ayra went for the ‘burn it with fire’ technique. She used to wave it around like a torch while it got black and crispy.”

Jon brushed his lips over Sansa’s hair. She never seemed to mind that gesture, and she hummed happily tonight when he did it.

“So were you more of an Arya or a Bran?”

“Neither. The graham crackers would be used up by the time I got there.”

“What did you want to be?”

“Bran’s were the best. Crisp and gooey and perfect. He’d make me one sometimes, and set it aside.”

Jon thought to himself that a rapidly cooling, set-aside s’mores was probably a poor substitute for the real thing. 

Sansa yelped as her marshmallow caught fire. Jon blew it out for her. His face was very close to hers. Her eyes were a dark blue in the firelight. He watched her set her stick aside, and he did the same. He didn’t pay a bit of attention to where it landed.

He cupped her cheek, then brought his lips down to meet hers. He kissed her slow and easy.  She cradled the back of his head awkwardly, and he remembered Margaery had told him Sansa might need some reassuring.

So he let himself go and really kiss her, pulling her onto his lap.

She sighed against his mouth and tightened her fingers in his hair. She was fragrant and warm and he was about to lose all of his common sense.

“We should bank the fire,” he whispered.

She brushed his hair from his forehead. “Can your middle name be boy scout? It is, it’s decided. Jon Boy Scout Snow.”

They decided in the end to put the fire out completely, burning their marshmallow sticks first for good measure. They spread out the embers and poured water over the whole thing, just to be sure. They did a good, thorough job, but the heat from their earlier kiss evaporated by the time the ashes were smoking.

Sansa glanced over at him. Even though she was smiling, there were small lines at the corners of her eyes. 

“I’m glad we torched the marshmallows. Don’t want any bears coming by the campsite looking for snacks. Or raccoons. Pretty much anything with four legs and fur.”

 _She’s nervous_ , Jon thought.  _Or stalling. Maybe both_.  

God, he wished he was better at this. How could he help her with her fears if he didn’t even fully understand them?

 _You could ask her, genius. Get back what you had five minutes ago_. 

He felt as if the tent was looming behind both of them, an unspoken question. 

Well, being awkward and honest was going to be better than staying silent, by a long shot. 

“So, um, would you mind if I hugged you?” 

Her smile was lighter this time, and she walked into his arms. He held her tight. He could feel her heart beating fast.

Her hair tickled his nose and his heart felt full, just holding her. 

She snuggled closer to him, and he swept his thumb over her back. He closed his eyes. So many things he wanted to say. _I’ll sleep outside if that’s easier for you. I think you’re gorgeous. I want you so much. I’m sorry I made you doubt any of that._

But he couldn’t open his damn mouth. 

Finally she shivered, and he just heard her whisper over the wind. “Do you think we could go in the tent?”

He smiled at her. “Of course, sweet girl.” She held on tight to his hand as they both ducked under the flap.

Sansa paused, just inside the tent. Her face fell. Jon felt a pang of fear. This was the first time they’d been together, away from the apartment. He’d been concerned about the sleeping arrangements the whole time.

And now, after talking to Margaery, he was at a whole new level of worry. 

She went to sit on one sleeping bag, and he sat on another.

He really  _had_ put them three feet apart, hadn’t he.

“Jon I – I need to tell you something.”

Sansa had the lantern with her. She put it down carefully. The red walls made her hair look darker in the lamplight. 

“Anything, Sansa.”

Sansa was quiet for what felt like the longest minute of Jon’s life. When she did speak it came out all in a rush.

“I mean look at these sleeping bags, Jon. We’ve been together for almost two months and you’ve placed them carefully apart.”

Jon was alarmed to see tears in her eyes.

“So carefully apart. Like you don’t want to touch me.”

Jon got up, ducking his head to avoid hitting the top of the tent, and sat next to her. He put his arm around her.

“I didn’t want to assume anything, Sansa.” And, he hadn’t wanted to pressure her. So he’d decided to take – well, sex, or sharing a sleeping bag at least – off the table. 

Which wasn’t fair.

Sansa had her arms wrapped around her knees again.

“So that’s it? You didn’t want to assume anything?”

 _Get to convincing her, Snow_.

He kissed her temple. How to tell her, how much he wanted her, without scaring her?

“Sansa, would you believe me if I told you I wake up every morning thinking about the next time I get to kiss you?”

Okay, that had been pretty lame.

Sansa was looking at him, though. “You do?”

“I do. I….want to touch you, sweet girl.” Jon swayed towards her. She was so close, and he felt dizzy. “So much.”

Sansa leaned into him. “Then why don’t you?”

Jon knew he had to be careful here. “I just…I feel you tense up, when I kiss you, and I don’t want to push you.”

Sansa traced his arm. She was quiet for a moment. “You can tell?”

“I can. I’ve got some experience, you know. With tension.”

She gave him a tiny nod. “I guess you do. I didn’t think you’d notice that, Jon. No one ever has, after…well, after my jerk of an ex-boyfriend. Joffrey.”

She was quiet again, but she still seemed uncomfortable. Jon took her hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Sansa scooted closer to him, bunching up the sleeping bag. “This is probably not the kind of campfire story you wanted.”

He was starting to understand that humor was part of how Sansa deflected pain.

“Only if you want to Sansa.”

Sansa leaned her head against his shoulder. “He - well he pushed my boundaries. A lot. I had to fight him off once or twice. And then when I did, he'd get angry. Partly because he was kind of a wimp, and I was strong enough to shove him off me.”

Jon was fighting hard to keep his breathing steady. Rage was roiling inside him.

Sansa picked at the seam of her cover-up. "Then he’d basically tell me ‘why do I waste my time, you're not that pretty anyway.’” Sansa paused. “I never even told Margaery that part.”

Jon stroked her hair and Sansa curled into him like a cat.

“And – and then I'd let him do it again, Jon. Because I …I don't know how he pulled it off but soon I was doing whatever I could to please him. I never could.” She was drawn into herself as she hugged her knees. “I mean everyone has different tastes I guess.”

She let go of her knees and trailed her hand down his arm again.  “Then when you wouldn’t do anything more than kiss me – I thought maybe he was right, about me not being attractive. I know you care about me. But I thought in the end, maybe you didn’t want me.”

This absolute asshole had made her doubt herself. His beautiful girl.

Jon was going to have to fix this, and he was going to have to do it right. He kissed her forehead, and each of her eyelids.

“Sansa. You're beautiful, you _are_. You're one of the best people I've ever met and I _hate_ that he did that to you. He had no right. He was a manipulator and a bully-“

“You've got that wolf look in your eyes again.”

All right, he needed to know what was up with this wolf stuff.

“What does that mean?”

Sansa lifted one shoulder. “You look kind of wild. But in a good way. Remember when you picked me up from the clinic and that guy was giving me a hard time?”

Jon had never parked a car faster. He'd heard the tires squeal and felt the car start to fishtail, but he didn't care.

Even though it had been sleeting outside, he could still see the expression on Sansa’s face. A guy with a beard was holding her arm and Sansa was shrinking away from him.

He’d gotten out of the car without thinking, without even stopping to put on his coat. He was ready with _Back off_ and _Leave her alone_ on the tip of his tongue but the guy took one look at him and ran.

“It was 35 degrees out but you weren’t even shaking, Jon. You came right over and you put your arm around me.”  Sansa smiled. “Your eyes were stormy, like they are now.” She blushed.  “I felt like you'd do anything to protect me.”  

“Yes.”

She cocked her head. “It’s that simple?”

_She's not in your head. Just because you feel it doesn't mean she knows it._

He started again. He stroked her cheek. “There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe, Sansa. I would have wrestled that guy to the ground. He was hurting you.”

Sansa’s brow furrowed. “Jon, you could have gotten hurt yourself.”

Jon considered. Maybe he could be cocky for once in his life. Besides, it might make her feel better.

“Top of my class in combat training. I'm pretty sure I could have taken him down.”

Sansa smiled at that. Her eyes lit up. He felt like some kind of real life hero even though he hadn't done a thing.

She traced his arm again, up to his shoulder. Jon flushed at the touch of her fingertip. “Well I guess all those muscles had to come from somewhere.” She looked at him from under her eyelashes. “So for real? You want me, that way?”

He wanted her every second of every day. And somehow, he’d left her wondering whether he wanted her at all. He understood now how far off track they were.

He thought he finally knew how to make this better. He took her face in his hands.

“Sansa. I want to kiss you. I want to touch you. I get light-headed just  _looking_  at you, sometimes. I felt like I was going to implode when I saw you in that bikini.”

“You liked it?” she whispered, touching the string self-consciously.

“I loved it.”  _I love you_ , he almost said, but this didn’t seem like the time.  “You’re gorgeous, and sometimes I’m blown away that I can touch you at all. I want you, so much, so often, that to me it just feels like breathing. I forget – I forget you’re not inside my head. That it might not be obvious to you. I feel like a neon sign, like I’m burning up for you. I just didn’t want to push you Sansa. You’ve been so patient with me. I wanted to be patient for you.”

Jon brushed away the tears on her cheeks. “But I think it’s pretty clear I messed that up badly.”

Sansa dried her eyes. “These are happy tears Jon. I know it can be hard to tell, I cry a lot. Finding Nemo, commercials with puppies, it’s sort of how I am.”

She sniffed. “But I get it, now, I think. That tension – I thought you couldn’t feel it. I thought _I_   was mostly past it. I wasn't crying about what happened anymore."

Jon drew her to him and hugged her.

“Sometimes your body won't forget something. Even when your mind tries to.”

He thought of how he'd covered his head, instinctively, when the fireworks went off.

Reflexes ran deep.

Sansa pulled back and cupped his cheek. “You weren’t stopping, then, because kissing me was all you wanted to do?” Her blue eyes were wide and if he kept gazing into them he was going to forget how to talk.

He took a deep breath. “No, sweetheart.”

He got hold of her properly, and brushed her lips with his. He heard her small, delighted sounds as he licked at the seam of her lips. She parted her mouth, and their tongues danced. 

He broke away briefly and saw that her pupils were blown. 

“Tell me,” he panted “if this is too much.”

She shook her head and pulled him closer.


End file.
